Demons, Supposedly
by tigersbride
Summary: A brutal double homicide gets Mulder intrigued, but Scully is skeptical as ever. At a pivotal point in their relationship with each other, will a case like this make them or break them? Set between Millennium and All Things.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I never own. This story is meant to be, my login captcha was CSM today! **

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Demons?! Honestly, what's next?

You tuck a red curl behind your ear as you stare out of the car window. You wonder at the fact that even after everything that's happened, to you and between you, Fox Mulder is still able to become obsessively determined to solve a case that clearly has no evidence of _demons._ But then again, maybe you're the strange one. You're not much less skeptical now than you were when you first set foot in Mulder's office, and think of the things you've seen.

This case really does take the bacon, if you do say so yourself. What is obviously no more than a tragic double homicide has triggered an eager ear somewhere and sure enough been passed on to Mr. Spooky himself for thorough investigation. Maybe that's the more tragic thing, that you're spending your weekend chasing imaginary creatures.

You watch as the world passes by around you, and wonder what your life would be like had you chosen a different path, or whether you ever could have been anyone else.

You've done your eye rolling and your berating and you finally agree just to go along with it, as you always do, and secretly you'd have it no other way, although you'll never tell Mulder that. You cast an eye at him as he drives, a little too fast down the freeway, and he shoots you a smile that you're only just starting to get accustomed to. Ever since he kissed you at new year he's looked at you differently, and you wonder if you've done the same. Not intentionally at least, although he surely knows by now that your feelings go a little deeper than they should for colleagues, or even for best friends.

As you arrive at the station the officers there brief you on the details of the case, telling you only a few details extra to the knowledge you gained in the car - a double, admittedly strange but brutal murder of a husband and wife in their own home. They'd been nailed to the wall upside down, the rusty metal in places penetrating muscle and bone, and they'd slowly bled to death together. Your stomach squirms as you recall the images you saw earlier, and imagine the last thoughts of the couple.

Despite the brutal way in which their lives had been taken there is nothing about the case that leads you to think anything paranormal had occurred - you'd have classified it as a reverse crucifixion if anything, but Mulder seems to have entirely the opposite reaction.

The two of you are lead into a room where you meet the young couple's 6 year old daughter Cassie, a pretty, pale girl with long blonde hair, who's clutching a scruffy blue stuffed rabbit to her breast. You smile down at the girl and she smiles back hesitantly, but it's Mulder who she seems to hit it off with more or less immediately. He starts by doing his painfully familiar Mr Potato Head impression and it only brings back memories of a dark time in your life, images of a daughter you barely knew fill your mind for an instant until you suppress them bitterly.

After a few minutes of entertaining the girl Mulder catches your arm in his hand and gestures for you to follow him outside. He looks you dead in the eyes and in them a passionate concern radiates, one you only see in him when he's totally sure of what he's saying, a look you associate with his deep belief in the paranormal. He starts to speak with urgency, gushing out his already deep rooted certainty that the child you've just left is in danger. You start to protest, because nothing in his argument is making sense, but after everything you've seen and all these years of being wrong and having your Occam's Razor constantly disproved, you've learnt to cut Mulder a little slack, and you know his instincts are often keen.

When you start to formulate a plan to keep Cassie out of harm's way, as it is already 8pm on Friday night, you assume that Mulder simply intends to keep her in police custody, but you should have known better, and before you know it the safe house is arranged and the two of you have cancelled your motel reservation in order to babysit a child that's more than likely no more at risk than you. You figure that it's probably a more normal way to spend your weekend as a thirty-something, playing house rather than chasing aliens, and so you reluctantly follow the plan, cringing at the size of the cramped 'master' bedroom with its small double bed and cramped sofa bed. Typical that the one time you need a safe house only a 2 bedroom is available within 50 miles, but you can't complain about the generous en-suite.

Mulder tries out his sofa bed, because that's definitely his problem since he's insisting on this charade, and you mock him as he gets poked by dodgy springs and narrows his eyes at mysterious stains on the mattress. You don't dare to look under the sheets of your own, adequate double.

Deciding just this once to play housewife, you cook up a quick dinner of spaghetti bolognese for the three of you, using ingredients you stopped for on the way. Mulder had promised to help, but you were hungry, he was in the shower, and you didn't mind really. He does look a bit guilty when he comes down the stairs sniffing up the signs of impending dinner, but you're more distracted by the fact that he opted to leave his t-shirt off than the smells of the cooking. You flush a bright red when he catches you staring, practically drooling.

Before you retire, after Cassie is soundly asleep (drifting off perhaps a little too easily for a should be traumatised child, the skeptic in you notes), Mulder props himself up on your bed, under the covers, and starts flicking through the channels on the television, which of course is positioned opposite your bed and out of sight of his makeshift arrangement. You roll your eyes when he offers his arm out to you with a goofy smile, but you take him up on his offer all the same, smiling as you take in his scent and lean against him. After some time you look up at his face, noting with no surprise that he's fallen asleep. You can't say you blame him really, you wouldn't want to sleep on that sofa and there's no way you're going to. You decide that you'll let him off too. A night in the same bed won't hurt. You pry the remote from his fingers and switch off the TV, sinking back into the bed as you slowly embrace sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

You're not sure what's surprised you more, that you're being woken up by a 6 year old on a Saturday morning, or that you're waking up with your limbs entangled in Mulder's, his hand resting on your bare stomach, beneath your night shirt. You stay still for a few moments, unsure if Mulder is awake and hoping he doesn't turn to face the blush that's colouring your cheeks now you've realised that you like this, waking up with him in the morning.

Cassie climbs onto the bed though and you're forced to move. As you do so you notice, partly in embarrassed horror and partly in amusement, that perhaps Mulder didn't move for a reason. You shift away from him and feel something graze against your legs. You resist the urge to look down and instead focus on the smiling child sat near your knees. Her eyes lock with Mulder's and he grins at her.

"Are you my new mummy and daddy?" Cassie asks bluntly.

You're taken aback by this question, and the outrightness in which it was asked after such an ordeal. Before Mulder can answer, as his connection to this child seems a bit stronger than yours, you inform her that no, you are not replacing her parents, and that you're just looking after her for a little while. She seems satisfied by your answer, but she's not interested in you, rather, she's enjoying poking fun at your partner, and, to your amusement, asking curiously what the bulge in the sheets is. Now that you're given an excuse, you glance down towards Mulder's groin and at the large, covered bulge there. You have to gulp back a sudden, unprecedented wave of desire as Mulder makes up an excuse and hurries into the bathroom, the size of the bulge alone is enough to keep you thinking about it for the rest of the morning.

Not long after breakfast, you steadily climb the stairs to the bedroom and start making the bed, pulling the sheets across so that they're just so, and vowing that you'll keep the bed to yourself tonight. You go to hang up your suit jacket, which you never got around to doing last night, when you hear the sound of glass smashing.

Your head automatically follows the sound, jerking to the right where your eyes travel down the stairs and meet an unfamiliar fear in a familiar face. The remains of a drinking glass and orange juice litter the floor by Mulder's feet, and his eyes are staring up at you in horror, set into a pale white face that's unnaturally far from his usual complexion. You can tell that something is wrong. Your hand automatically finds your gun as you spin to face whatever Mulder can see behind you, but as you turn your eyes meet nothing but the bedroom. You can hear the footsteps rushing up the stairs as Mulder bounds toward you, and when he reaches you he lifts you up with one arm, groping at the ceiling for something that doesn't exist.

Gently, he lays you down on the bed, examining you for some imaginary affliction, in his eyes a mixture of panic and confusion. You stare up at him curiously, wondering if you're imagining his welling tears. When he's quite certain you aren't hurt, he kneels down on the floor in front of the bed and you sit up level with him. You whisper his name and he lifts his eyes from his hands, taking a deep breath as he shakes his head.

"I saw you dead, Scully." He whispers. "You were hanging."

Your eyes narrow and he wraps an arm around your shoulder, allowing you to bury your head in his neck as his fingers knead your hair. You wish you could tell him it was just a dream, that it wasn't real, or that you're okay now, but really you've got a sinking feeling in your gut that tells you something's wrong. You can feel his hot breath on your forehead and it takes all you have not to kiss him - when did you become so besotted? Something about his vulnerability makes you want him that much more.

As he pulls away from you a few moments later he smiles weakly, and you wonder if you imagined the touch of embarrassment in his expression. You return his smile as he shakes his head, muttering about his overactive imagination and how he's pleased you're alright. Together you head back down to the kitchen, where Cassie is waiting to ask Mulder for a glass of milk. You note in slight annoyance how she addresses him as 'daddy' and he doesn't bat an eyelid, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. You'll have to scald him for that later, it's not something that can be allowed to carry on.

Although he insists he's fine, for the rest of the day Mulder acts strangely, and on more than one occasion you catch him staring at you with wide eyes that mirror his earlier horror, and it sends chills down your spine before you realise nothing is wrong. You wonder what he's seeing. When this happens for a third time he's sat on the opposite sofa and Cassie is plonked next to him, fiddling with a doll rather than watching the television (not that you can blame her, watching conspiracy stories about the Titanic aren't your idea of fun either). Rather than entertain him, you leave for the kitchen and pour a glass of water. He follows you in, as expected, and you hand the water to him with an exasperated expression.

"You're obviously dehydrated or delirious, Mulder." You state authoritatively. You watch as he swallows and rubs his eyes like a child skirting the edges of a disciplining. He nods once, slowly, drinking a little water as he tries to find the words to appease you, and struggles before he fails. Letting him off, you take a step toward him and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently in reassurance. He smiles, leaning his forehead toward yours and once again you wish you had the guts and the timing to close the gap between you. You'd almost hoped that kissing him on new year would have got him out of your system, but you should have known you were in too deep, and he only left you wanting more.

Mulder leaves a kiss above your brow and admits defeat, telling you you're right and he'll go get an early night if you don't mind putting Cassie to bed. It's only 9pm but it's definitely past the young girl's bed time, and you're never against a little extra sleep. After Mulder retires upstairs you help Cassie do the same, finding yourself tired too.

As you sneak into the bedroom after finishing the washing up and swigging a glass of warmed up milk, you take care not to wake Mulder, but when you look down he's sitting up on the sofa bed, still very much awake. You take a detour to nudge him in the ribs and tell him to sleep and he makes a quip about needing a goodnight kiss, which makes your heart roll over in your ribcage. You smirk and slap him lightly on the arm as you tumble into your own bed, having no difficulty drifting off yourself.

You're aroused several hours later, but what feels like several minutes, to a hissing Mulder who's knocked his leg on his way back from the bathroom. You grumble as you switch the lamp on so he can see where he's going, but his eyes are so full of despair that you're taken aback. He apologises for waking you but stands awkwardly where he was, as if hoping you won't immediately go back to sleep. You sit up and rub your eyes to make sure you're seeing what you think you're seeing, as you notice the redness around his eyelids. You're sure he hasn't slept at all, and when you ask him he confirms your guess with a shake of his head. You sigh, but shift across and pull back the covers, inviting him to join you, which he does gratefully.

He settles gladly into you, your arm around him the way his holds you when you're in trouble, and you find yourself kissing his hair before you can resist. He pulls back to look you in the eyes and smiles sadly. You're concerned, and when you ask him what's going on he drops his gaze.

"I don't know." He mutters. "I just can't stop thinking about everything that's happened to us, to me and you. It's always there Scully, this bottled up depression that I never acknowledge, you know? Everything I've ever felt about Samantha, this quest for the truth, the people against us, how it's cost you so much...and..." He trails off, and your heart pounds when you prompt him to carry on and he lifts his eyes to meet yours. If he's ever going to admit that he feels something for you... there's never been a better time. He opens his mouth as if he's about to speak, but when words have apparently failed him he looks away. You sigh deeply, wondering what's started all of this off and why it had to be at a time like this, when you can't just go home. You pull him close to you again and hold him until you feel his breaths space out and you know he's finally asleep. If this is what it takes, you reason. Too scared to move, you close your eyes, joining him quickly in slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

You're spared from such an early wake up call on Sunday morning, but when you do wake, you're concerned to note that neither of you moved an inch overnight. Mulder's head still rests on your chest, his arms still looped around your body. You lean backwards gently to grasp your vibrating cell phone, trying your best not to disturb the man in your bed, but furrowing your brow when he stirs anyway. You answer the call with your name, relieved that it's nothing more than Skinner checking up on you. For a brief moment you wonder if you should mention your concerns for Mulder, but with him right there in front of you... you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt regardless.

After you've hung up the phone, you turn back to Mulder and wonder if you were hasty in dismissing your concerns for him as you take in the gaunt look on his face. The circles under his eyes are dark and his skin has become sallow overnight, giving him the look of someone who's distinctly unwell, and reminding you vividly of your face in the mirror when cancer was plaguing your body. Instinctively your fingers find his cheek and he smiles softly, emptily, as if he's drained of all life and happiness.

"You look terrible." You state bluntly, earning a smile and an eye roll that shows at least part of him is still intact. After some more questioning, when you're quite satisfied that he feels well despite his appearance, you back off and allow him some space, wishing for the millionth time since you met him that you could read his mind. If only Gibson Praise were here. Mulder stares up at the ceiling for some time before he makes any attempt to move, but eventually he drags the covers away from him and ambles into the en-suite.

When he returns, he shoots you a look full of mixed emotions. In it, you can see his frustration, his sadness, his annoyance, and his vulnerability. You want to reach out and hold him like you did in the middle of the night, but it doesn't feel right this morning, nothing does. Mulder runs his hands through his hair, straightens up, and heads to Cassie's room, leaving you in turmoil.

Your morning continues much the same as yesterday, Mulder acting like a different person to the man you've known for 7 years while you wonder if you've done something to upset him. He's definitely not himself, he catches you fresh from the shower in only a towel and doesn't mention it. You catch him eyeing you cautiously on occasion, with yesterday's horror but a newfound fight, and wonder if he's still hallucinating. You need to confront him, but Cassie doesn't seem to want to leave him alone, and you've noted her calling him 'daddy' again a couple of times, and it unsettles you greatly. Whatever is happening to your partner isn't normal, it isn't his way of dealing with things.

As you sit down, pretending to flick through a newspaper on the couch opposite Mulder and Cassie, you glance up at him gingerly, almost afraid at what expression you might see. Nothing prepares you for what you see. You stand, instantly ready to rush to the side of the man you see in front of you, bleeding litres from his eyes, ears, nose and mouth, but as you stand the vision disappears, and Mulder is watching you with curiosity, as if he knows exactly what you just saw. Is there something wrong with you too? You start to wonder if you've caught some sort of infection, or if you've been exposed to a drug or gas, and you begin to recall vividly your experiences with a strange mushroom and the hallucinations you had in a cave not too long ago.

All thought of fungi leaves your mind as you meet Cassie's eyes and realise that she's been staring at you. You narrow your eyes at the look on her face, instantly suspicious. You shake it off, she's just a child and she's probably only worried because you're acting strangely. But your gut tells you otherwise. You look to Mulder but he's looking away, gazing at the floor, hand in Cassie's. You decide there and then that you need to talk. Still standing, you cross the floor and close the distance between yourself and Mulder, taking his free hand in your own and telling Cassie firmly to stay there for a few minutes. Mulder tries to resist for a few moments and it increases your panic. Whatever is happening to you both is affecting him tenfold. Your Mulder wins the fight against whoever you're trying to drag to the kitchen, and he follows you in, almost zombie-like in his way of walking and gauntness.

"Snap out of it." You command, and as if giving him fuel to carry on, he meets your eyes and you can see your friend within his, struggling to compete with whatever is taking over him. You could shout; yell at him for how he's been acting and how damned scared he's made you, but you can't find the words in your panic. The darkness in his eyes has increased exponentially since last night, and try as you might you can't think of anything to lighten his mood. You entertain for a second the thought of kissing him, not as a romantic gesture, but as a mix up to shake him from this reverie, or depression, or whatever the hell this is, but he turns away when he realises you're almost as lost as he is. You grab his shoulder to turn him back to face you and as you do so Cassie enters the room, asking 'daddy' for a glass of milk.

Mulder looks down at her for a couple of painful, silent seconds as her eyes lock with his, and he promptly collapses.


End file.
